


i'd like to make myself believe

by Chrome



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Fluff, M/M, Pre Episode 5, Pre-Relationship, post episode 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrome/pseuds/Chrome
Summary: Viktor has never seen a firefly before. Yuuri has never wanted so badly to hold onto someone.Set between episodes four and five.





	i'd like to make myself believe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plasmoduckie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasmoduckie/gifts).



> For [Magu](http://plasmoduck.tumblr.com/), as thanks for [the wonderful sketch](http://plasmoduck.tumblr.com/post/175123391802/there-was-a-game-on-the-victuri-bang-discord-and#notes) she made of my other fic.
> 
> Thank you to [Rakel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar) for the very fast and helpful beta read and [Allison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammiviktor) for being (semi-)supportive of the constant string of new projects. At least this one was short!

The sun went down early in Hasetsu, even in June. That was what Viktor said, although Yuuri wouldn’t have used the word ‘early’ for the dusky evening, just past seven-thirty as the sun started to sink down into the ocean. Perhaps it was early compared to St. Petersburg, where in early summer the sky stayed ablaze with light until the early hours of the morning.

“It might suit you,” Viktor said with a laugh when he first described it. “You’re up so late anyway.”

Yuuri almost said that Hasetsu must suit Viktor better, then, with his tendency to go to bed by ten PM, or else start to doze off wherever he was, leaning on his elbow at the bar or laying his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. He didn’t, though, because it sounded far too close to asking Viktor to stay.

He had months yet. Months before the Grand Prix, before Yuuri’s competitive career would be over and Viktor would be gone. He let that sentence,  _ Viktor would be gone _ , slide into the shadowy edges of the evening and vanish into the grass.

While Yuuri was lost in thought, Viktor had stopped walking, staring at the roadside. “Yuuri! Did you see that!” He grabbed Yuuri’s arm. Viktor was tactile like that, always grabbing on, brushing against, like he needed constant reassurance of the physical existence of another person. Yuuri had been briefly worried about Viktor’s grasp of Japanese personal space, but he seemed to have picked up enough decorum to be polite, reserving his octopus tendencies for Yuuri.

“See what?” Yuuri asked. For a wild minute, he wondered if Viktor could somehow see his thoughts slithering away into the grass.

“That!” Viktor pointed, and Yuuri saw the blink of light.

“It’s a firefly,” he said.

“A—“ Viktor blinked, parsing the word. “Oh! I’ve heard of those.”

“You’ve heard of—“ Yuuri looked at him. “You’ve never seen one before?”

“No!” Viktor took a step closer, fascinated. “We don’t have them in Russia. Too cold, I think.”

“Too cold,” Yuuri echoed, and then added, “There are a lot here.”

As he spoke, more pinpricks of light appeared and vanished, like little sparks floating upwards. Viktor released Yuuri’s arm so he could continue to close the distance and soon he stood at the edge of the path, hand extended.

Yuuri couldn’t help but follow. The light was slanted and golden, cutting straight across, and it illuminated Viktor, made everything that was bright about him brighter, glinting on his hair and eyelashes. Yuuri didn’t know much about photography except for what Phichit had said, but he recognized in a second the golden hour, the moments before sunset when the light turned soft. He’d been dragged out to take photos in Detroit some evenings, Phichit chattering about posting times and filters and the best light and  _ smile, Yuuri. _

“When I was a kid,” Yuuri said, the words coming out unbidden, “We used to catch them in jars.”

Viktor turned towards him, open concern etched in his expression. “Doesn’t that hurt them?”

“No,” Yuuri assured him, “You poke holes in the top. And we always let them go, eventually.”

“It must be beautiful,” Viktor said softly, “But they must be afraid.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“I think that’s how it always is,” Viktor says. “We like to trap things that are beautiful.”

The most beautiful thing that Yuuri could see right then was Viktor, haloed in the soft light, surrounded by fireflies, one hand out as if waiting for the universe to reach out and put something in his palm.

“We won’t trap them, then,” Yuuri said.

“Are they here often?” Viktor asked.

“In the summer,” Yuuri said. “I’m surprised we haven’t seen them before, but I guess we don’t walk this way much. Sunset is the best time.”

Viktor nodded and remained still, frozen where he stood.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked. Sometimes he wondered, when Viktor said things that he couldn’t quite parse. Things like  _ they must be afraid  _ and  _ we like to trap things that are beautiful _ .

“If I stand here long enough,” Viktor said, “Do you think I might be able to hold one? I don’t want to catch it. I’d just like to hold it.”

“Maybe,” Yuuri said. “It might land on you.”

“Then,” Viktor said, “Would you mind if we stay here for a little while?” He laughed, small and restrained, keeping perfectly still. It was simultaneously unsurprising and terribly odd to realize how much control Viktor could exercise over himself when he was trying. He’d never noticed before Viktor came to Hasetsu how much poise it must have taken to maintain a flawless image, to never admit to a bad moment. He could see the elements of the act only now, once he’d seen it dismantled.

“No,” Yuuri said. “I don’t mind.” He thought he wouldn’t mind if they stayed like that forever, frozen in this moment, if only it meant he could keep Viktor here. It was a terribly selfish thought.

But Viktor turned away from the fireflies for a moment to look at him and smiled softly. “This must be boring for you,” he said.

“No,” Yuuri said. “It’s beautiful.” It was the golden light and the fireflies but most of all Viktor surrounded by it, surrounded by the town that five years away hadn’t made any less Yuuri’s. Viktor, here in Hasetsu, here in his life, surrounded by fireflies.  Yuuri could have stayed in that moment forever.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Viktor said quietly, turned away again, eyes fixed on the scattering beads of light. “I wish…”

Yuuri almost said, “You wish…?” and prompted him to finish. He didn’t, though, mostly because he was afraid it was going to be something that Viktor didn’t mean like, “I wish I could stay here forever,” and Yuuri wouldn’t be able to stop himself from saying, then do.

_ We like to trap things that are beautiful. _

Yuuri would not trap Viktor here, no matter how lovely it would have been.

Still, there were other ways to capture a moment, and he took out his phone and flipped to the camera app. He looked up as Viktor gasped, a hushed and half-frozen sound, and he took a picture of it, the rapidly-shadowing golden light, the fireflies like gold droplets in the air, Viktor’s eyes alight with wonder and the gleam in the palm of his hand.

He looked down only long enough to ensure he’d preserved the image and then he looked back at the real thing again. Viktor’s lips were slightly parted, frozen, like he’d truly turned to stone after that first soft little sound. He could see his hand tremble slightly, like he couldn’t decide whether to close his hand around the brightness and keep it there.

He didn’t; he lifted his hand up slightly and held it there, palm open. Yuuri slipped his phone back into his pocket. For seconds, minutes, they stood there, and then the firefly lifted up and vanished into the others, into the fading golden light, and they both watched it go.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Viktor said, and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go home.”

“Let’s go home,” Yuuri said, and wondered if Viktor really meant  _ home _ , wondered if he could keep this, have this, and he held that hope for a moment, golden and bright in his hand.

Then, like Viktor, he lifted it up and waited for it to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you can! They mean a lot.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [catalists](http://catalists.tumblr.com/).


End file.
